


Contemplation

by leftei



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Abuse, Angst, Child Abuse, Emotional Hurt, Emotional Roller Coaster, F/M, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, How Do I Tag, Implied Sexual Content, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Interspecies Relationship(s), Interspecies Romance, Intimacy, Memory Loss, My First AO3 Post, My First Fanfic, Non-Linear Narrative, Past Abuse, Past Child Abuse, Post-Season/Series 06, Season/Series 06 Spoilers, Sentient Voltron Lions, Spoilers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-16
Updated: 2018-06-19
Packaged: 2019-05-23 22:31:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 2
Words: 8,445
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14942576
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/leftei/pseuds/leftei
Summary: Memories of his past swirl around a vividly hallucinating Lotor's present, along with unattainable dreams of the future.





	1. The Surge

It was…

Cold.

Lotor couldn’t help but snort. That was so cliche, but...it appeared to have a ring of truth to it.

…

...at least it wasn’t dark.

Far from it, actually. The brilliance of the quintessence field shone over everything. The controls before him, the red panels flashing, screaming their dire message at him as they shorted out, one by one-well, they might as well have not been there to begin with. The light pierced through, demanded attention, made everything else meaningless.

Where there should have been whooping sirens in his ears, there was only a ringing, and as he began to drift up and out of his seat, it felt like all he had ever seen, all he had ever known, in his 10,000 years of life, was this. Only this.

As he closed his eyes, the searing white light seemed to laugh, a harsh, grating noise.

Or was that the ruins of his mech, what was supposed to have been the new Altean defender, shuddering as it breathed its last? Crackling with lilac energy, drifting through an uncaring abyss,

_d o o m e d?_

_~Lotor.~_ his broken mech seemed to be hissing-or was that the light?

His mech, his cockpit, every fiber of his being seemed to vibrate as it sounded again, louder this time.

_~L o t o r.~_

That voice, he knew that voice.

His tongue felt thick and heavy in his mouth, his jaw, that had been so firmly clenched not that long ago, teeth grating as he punched forward, onward to a new age of power…

It was slack, now. Still, he managed to move it ever so slightly, ignoring the pain that wracked his body along with it.

A dry swallow. No, wet.

His blood.

“Fff...fa...fffa...faaather…?”

With a nauseating tugging sensation in his gut, he was thrust back into the early days. One of them, at least.

He could see himself, trailing behind his father, young, eyes sparkling with hope and gazing up at him, admiring how his cape gleamed in the artificial violet light of the command ship’s halls, wanting one just like it someday.

And of course, there was the primitive little wind up toy he cradled behind his back. The reason for his following in the first place.

Pride had blossomed in his chest, as he waited for the right moment- it had to be the right moment, you see, or Zarkon would hit him. H a r d.

Better a scoff from the Emperor than a scream from his brutal wrath.

Finally, the resonating sound of the Emperor’s footsteps came to a stop.

Zarkon’s cape billowed behind him as he turned- Lotor remembered barely managing not to flinch at the swift, sudden movement, nor at the narrowing of his father’s eyes.

_“L o t o r.”_

Full of disdain, full of contempt, full of loathing, full of so many things, but not a single one of them being love.

_"Why are you following me?”_

Glaring eyes shifted to the side.

_“And what’s that behind your back?”_

Lotor had planned for his response to be quiet. Respectful. Use the right titles, bring a fist to his chest. But his excitement, his wonder, his heart won over his mind as he wound up the tiny toy.

_“Father, Father, look what I’ve made!”_

Eagerly, he thrust out his creation, balanced precariously in his open lilac palms. It was a miniature sage of Oriande-had he been to Oriande?- effortlessly twirling its javelin, It had taken him hours to get the movement fluid, to make it feel natural, to get that determined expression on such a tiny face, to affix it’s robes just right, like how they were described in all he had read.

_“It’s-”_

It’s the reason he was hurled against the far wall.

Then later, hurled into an arena, told get his nose out of books and his blade into chests. Told to try and act like he had a single drop of Galra blood in his veins.

Told to reject whatever else was there.

His father despised him. He knew it to be true-

_“Finally, my darkest shame can be wiped from the universe forever.”_

P-proof, in that voice he had once considered to be gut-wrenching. He was hardened, as the years went by. Learned how to pick which emotions to display based on the kind of reaction he required. Learned how to cry on the inside.

Learned how to lie.

But forget that, back to those words, those specific words. When had he heard them? His head hurt. His everything hurt. But he knew he knew, it was there, come on, come o n-

W h e n?

...fighting…

There he was.

Fighting for his life, above a dry, cracked earth and underneath a clouded sky. Against a man who was now more machine, than anything else.

The fight he had avoided as long as he could. Worked in the shadows. Misdirection and manipulation, these he trusted more than his generals to see his plans come to fruition. Peace. Prosperity. _Q u i n t e s s e n c e._

Zarkon slept. Lotor schemed.

Then Zarkon woke. Declared him an enemy of the state.

Lotor fled.

Another tug in his gut, and...this. This he remembered all too well.

He could almost feel the heat of that star. His last ditch attempt to get away.

Imagery swirled back into the inevitable face-off.

There he was, taking a stand. Raising his blade. Slice. Parry. Thrust. Dodge.

Slice. Parry. Thrust. Dodge.

The scene melted seamlessly into another.

 _“You’re getting stronger!”_ Came the praise of Dayak, as he panted, wiping glistening sweat from his brow.

_“A true master swordsman in the making; that’s what you are, my Prince! So long as, by some miracle, you manage to remember that stance!"_

She had lashed out at his feet, causing him to perform quite the dance to avoid the stinging blows-how he felt it so sharply through his boots, he’d never know.

_“It’s an essential one! You’ll find yourself in a fight to the death sooner than you think, and when you’re lying there, wasting on the battlefield, wailing like Kova in the dead of night- that animal! I tell you, we should slit its throat and have ourselves a good night’s sleep! But the point, the point; you’ll be lying there, skewered like a piece of meat and clawing at your chest, screaming about how, had you remembered your Mnocerxa stance, you might have lived!”_

As she prattled on,he wondered, was this his...mother? No, no, that wasn’t right. His…

...he couldn’t remember.

A-anyway, this was before the fight with...what’s-his-name. Or was it after? His head hurt. What had the order been? It was all scattered in his mind, like shimmering stardust. Bits and pieces, that’s all he had left.

Bits and pieces of a mech.

Bits and pieces of his memory.

 _“Thank you,”_ he had replied, as she had concluded with some more praise, as if to soften the grisly imagery. Or at least that’s what he thought he had said-either way, his politeness earned him a firm swat to the behind, as he yelped indignantly.

 _“No!”_ She had exclaimed. _“Thank yourself. Your blade! Your movements! Your power!_

P o w e r…

 _“You want to see my power?”_ Warkon had roared. No, no Zarkon. That was his name, right?

Back to the cracked earth, the overcast sky.

The fight itself-that was all a blur. He could only pick out certain moments. They moved so f a s t.

Gasping as…Plarkon came crashing down from the sky, barely dodging before the emperor left a crater in his wake.

Bringing his blade down on...his back, watching those purple sparks spew out, seeing him stumble, hearing him gasp for air, as Lotor himself had done many times after one of...Arkon’s blows landed true.

Markon aiming towards the lions-none of those names sounded right-towards the future. But not to strive towards it. To destroy it.

Lotor...was that his name? Was he really struggling to remember his own name? Well, he didn’t remember thinking either. He just moved. Grabbed the pole of debri. Propelled himself forward, launched himself at his father, and impaled him.

Labored breathing, those violet, mechanical eyes that somehow managed to retain the hateful nature of the original, fading into nothingness as the sun shone again. A new dawn for him. For the Gal...Yal...Oll...for the empire.

And now it was sunset. He was going to d i e. Of that he was certain.

...how did this happen? His final gambit, what had it been?

Screaming. He remembered screaming.

Look, he was charging. Against that thick, turquoise beam, emanating from deep within Voltron’s chest, from deep within it’s soul. Quintessence. So. Much. Q u i n t e s s e n c e. What was once luminous to him became glaring.

Just like her eyes.

 _A l l u r a’ s_ eyes.

Cerulean orbs with lavender pupils. Not the kind you got lost in. The kind you got found in.

No matter the circumstances, they would shine. Whether with curiosity, laughter, determination, hope, tears...

She captivated him, more than the other paladins, more than anyone. Planet Thayserix came to mind. When he had pursued her through the fog-ridden maze of rock spires and hidden caves, the very chase he found himself gazing at now.

 _“I am impressed that you’re able to hide,”_ he had admitted, as his the readings of his fighter gave him no inkling as to where she might be.

_“But I will find you.”_

But no, no, she had found h i m. Found, and gathered up the bit and pieces of his heart.

Sure, at first, she placed him in a cell. Look at him, sitting on the cold bench there, making a point as to all he had done for the paladins and their mission. Her mission. She interrupted him. Came off as bigoted, prejudiced and narrow-minded, and he called her out on it.

But...before or after that...somewhere along the line...either they had changed or things changed between them. In the way they interacted. When he killed...someone. It must have been someone important, someone hard to beat.

Ah, now sitting on the steps leading to the bridge of...some ship...and her eyes gazed down at him, shining with worry.

 _“Are you alright?”_ She had asked.

The people in his life who had ever asked him that were few and far between.

 _“I’ll be fine.”_ He had answered.

Not only did that come to pass, he become better than he’d ever been. At the height of his power.

He’d become Emperor.

Glimpses, now. Fleeting glimpses.

Planet Feyiv.

The Kral Zera.

Sendak.

Allegiances.

Revolting factions.

Greeting the Paladins. Talking about getting...something. Stopping the fighting. Telling Allura she was the key to it all.

Had he known at that point that she was the key to his heart?

Walking up the steps, arm in arm.

He remembered telling her to wait, somewhere, reaching out for her hand,

_“Please...I cannot do this without you.”_

Allura.

Her insecurities. Her fears.

Her abilities.

They had accomplished many things together, he knew. Grown closer. But there were these gaps. Not just when it came to her, but to everything. His memories were crumbling away. He could hardly remember what he had seen...or-or been shown a mere tick ago, never mind further back than that.

Time was of the essence. Allura. Allura, Allura, A l l u r a. There had to be something left. A n y t h i n g. One last thing.

That night they had shared together...he had hoped it would be the first of many.

All of a sudden, there it was.

There he was, standing before the door to the room she had elected to stay in overnight, staying up late to tweak what she described as a few things, here and there.  

_“Allura…”_

The door slid open.

_“Lotor! What is it? Has something gone wrong?”_

He had held up his hands, in a reassuring manner before allowing them to drop to his sides. _“No, Princess. Far from it. Things on my end are coming along splendidly. I came to talk to you about earlier, when were working on the...”_ He had paused, eyes glimmering as he feigned a lapse in his memory.

_“...what did Hunk call it?”_

She had blinked, brow furrowing as she tried to remember.

_“ Oh, ah...he said a bit more before but...magical Altean alchemy super ship.”_

He could almost hear her laughter.

Lotor had chuckled. _“That’s a bit of a mouthful.”_

 _“Well then why’d you have me say it? ”_ She had teasingly questioned, crossing her arms in mock anger.

_“I like to see you smile.”_

_“Oh...A-anyway, w-what about it?”_ She had continued, somewhat flustered by his answer.

_“Well, when I took hold of your arms, I was going to kiss you.”_

A pause. He swore he could hear her heart racing, in that moment, as he took her hands into his own.

_“May I, Princess?”_

She took a moment of contemplation, before hitting him with that heart-warming smile.

_“Yes, you may.”_

He had pulled her up close.

A kiss became kisses, sweet at first. Then hungry. Asking if he could come in as they broke away for air, resisting the urge to dip right back in as she nodded, as they disappeared inside...

Yet another tug sent him to much later that night, as they lied in bed. Their armor was discarded carelessly on the floor, his fingers mindlessly roaming through her ivory hair, snagging somewhere within, incessant apologies streaming from his lips as he worked to get it free in a painless manner, and she laughed and laughed, cuddling onto him even more. He had cracked a smile as well, gazing into her eyes.

 _“Why do my fingers insist on taking up residence in your hair? What’s so special about it, I wonder? Of course it’s beautiful like the rest of you, but there has to be something more...smell, maybe?”_ he teased, before bringing fistfuls close and burying his face in in them, inhaling deeply.

 _“Well?”_ Questioned Allura, rolling her eyes lightly. _“What does it smell like?”_

He had given no answer at first, exhaling as he slowly pulled his face away and let the hair gently fall, arms wrapping around her waist as he softly, reverently kissed her forehead.

_“Everything I’ve ever wanted.”_

_“Really? What about peace and security for your empire?”_

_“Come now, Allura, I was-”_

_“Your very own Balmera?”_

Blushing. Yes, he started blushing, to the very tips of his ears, no less.

_“Y-you’ve been talking to Dayax, haven’t you?”_

_“Not just talking! She showed me pictures. That ceremonial outfit reaaaaally suited you.”_

Cringed. Yes, he most definitely cringed.

_“W-while it’s true I also desire peace and security for my empire, I no longer desire a Balmera; that was a childish dream, and-”_

Her kiss was unexpected, yet welcome. He'd never get over their softeness. It twisted him up inside, but in a good way.

He knew what the bad way felt like.

 _“You were saying?”_ She challenged, holding back laughter.

_“I…”_

Grinning triumphantly, and a bit cheekily, she pressed her lips against his once more. Of course he had tickled her until that laughter bubbled out, and she in turn had revealed HE was ticklish as well, something he hadn’t known, but that wasn’t important.

Allura.

Allura had kissed him a g a i n.

She hated him now. Well, hated him again. She didn’t u n d e r s t a n d. He had done whatever it took to keep HER culture alive, to keep HIS culture alive, to keep THEIR culture alive.

He had saved the last of them. Shielded them. Hidden them away. THOUSANDS of them! It was still just as he had said- he sacrificed a few to preserve the future for MILLIONS! Not a day went by when he didn't think of those who perished, not a day went by when he didn't wrack his brain to see if there had been any, a n y other way! He was going to tell Allura, he was going to tell them ALL, but  that quiznaking Altean with the emerald markings had revealed the truth too soon, f a r too soon, ruined EVERYTHING...e-everything...

His eyelids fluttered open, unable to hold in the burning sensation that came with tears. Droplets arced out of the corners of his eyes, rolled off of eyelashes, found their way into the air by numerous means. In each droplet, he could almost see the memories he was losing. The life he was losing.

What was that little bit of extra brightness, off in the sky? That ring of...not-quite stars? Were they leaving him?

Wait. They were still here? T-they could save him? Wait, N O!

Panic seized him, his eyes going wide, wider than the trans-reality empire he had so hoped to create. What had HAPPENED to him, earlier? He fought them? He did! He fought them! He fought h e r! What was he thinking? When he had pleaded to her, c o n f e s s e d to her, and she FIRED at him, REJECTED him, that hurt, that all hurt but the l a s t s t r a w was her, h-her...

_“You’re more like Zarkon than I could have ever imagined.”_

_Zarkon_ , who starved him in a room for days on end to teach him respect, having soldiers eat before his son’s cell with purposefully loud, disgusting noises, under orders to not bother to FINISH the food, but toss it to the side, to be whisked away by tiny, circular robots as Lotor clutched his stomach and watched?

 _Zarkon_ , who would often send soldiers seek him out just to remind him he was a disgusting creature, not just with words, but with lashes of a whip for every l e t t e r of them?

_“Y o u! A r e! A! D i s g r a c e!”_

_Zarkon_ , who had threatened to have Lotor's mouth welded shut, contacting the head technician before his very eyes to have plans drawn up just in case, later showing him those very plans with an high-resolution visual of him kicking and screaming as the metal plates where sunken in and blowtorches mercilessly seared his face- why wouldn't he, kick and scream, with no anesthesia, a luxury his father saw to be far too good for him, never mind the process being estimated to take anywhere from 6 to 7 vargas?

 _Zarkon,_ who set fire to the very dreams of his son: the archive of his favorite works and data, including works Lotor had created on his own. The insidious virus corrupted all data beyond repair, as Lotor desperately tried to salvage anything, anything at all, breaking down into tears as his father forced him to watch the screens flash, the files destroy themselves.

 _Zarkon,_ who upon the realization that Lotor’s decelerated aging was to be a permanent part of his being, submitted him to the Druids for test after test, his only reaction to his son throwing up as he entered the room one of disgust?

Oh, at first he thought something had changed in him. The Emperor had instantly ordered the Druids to let him go. His chains slid away, and he collapsed: only to be told he was to l i c k the contents of his stomach

O f f.

T h e.

_F l o o r._

_Z a r k o n **,** _ who had annihilated culture after culture while he, L-Lotor, had made sacrifice after sacrifice to preserve one? His conscience! Gone! His familial ties? Gone! His love! Allura, his l o v e...

Did she r e a l l y think he was able to sleep at night? That his sins didn't keep him wide awake?

How...how DARE she? How DARE she compare him to that M O N S T E R? It broke something inside of him, to know that she SAW him that way, he didn’t even know there was anything left to be broken but clearly there had been because he became unhinged, he went M A D, and now, in the aftermath, he could hear himself screaming, p l e a d i n g.

“No! No P L E A S E! I’m sorry, I’m so sorry, DON’T leave me here Princess, Princess PLEASE don’t leave me, d-don’t leave me!”

Emotion welled up deep inside of him until it spilled over in a a scream more raw and haggard than all those that came before.

_**“I love you!”** _

And his voice broke.

“I..I _love_ you..please I...it hurts…d-don’t go…”

Against all odds, the light grew brighter. Harsher. The ringing in his ears became deafening, and he raised his arms before his face defensively as he let out a tortured cry.

The images blurred. They came too fast. They screeched at him, echoing in a terrible amalgamation of all the voices he’d ever known. People who'd wronged him. People he'd wronged. Everyone fit into one category or the other. Demanding responses. Demanding closure.

His breaths were short and shallow, and he struggled to gulp down air, racing to form replies, parting his lips-

Only to have whatever sounds he might have made swallowed in an ear-splitting roar.

The brighter, harsher light..

...a mane?

H o w? It shouldn’t be here, it should be...should be...

Yet, celestial fur flared as blinding eyes bored into his very soul, a terrifying bestial face drawing so close it’s hot breath fogged up the hull of his cockpit, a cockpit that soon faded away, along with his mech, until it was just him, floating in a sea of quintessence, and the voices, again.

_~You know this isn't a victory.~_

Lotor could only manage a series of broken whimpers as he thought of what might have been, what he would do differently if he were to live.

He saw his empire, peaceful at last, rolling in more quintessence than they knew what to do with.

He saw an Empress at his side, their children scampering around as she called out a warning to them to be careful-twins! How delightful, even if they did seem to be a bit of a handful.

He saw himself going back to the colony, telling them the t r u t h about the “other colony”, explaining himself-they deserved an explanation.

His family again! Planning to vacation on Oriande, just the four of them, away from the hustle and bustle of the empire.

The...the sheer w o n d e r in his children’s eyes as they approached the white hole, pointing at the numerous glowing markings and squealing in glee. Of course they’d be worthy. She’ll have raised them. He’ll have raised them. They’ll have raised them. Not to mention the powerful blood running through their veins.

There they went, into the white hole. He saw...he saw...

n

o

t

h

i

n

g

And reality came crashing down, the picturesque vision shredded out of existence as if by razor sharp claws.

Meanwhile, the White Lion’s lip curled. It had had enough of feeding images of into his brain, twisting the words of those he had wronged into a voice of it’s own for an instant, for a second. It was minimal exertion. Lotor had fed it the line.

There was no need to clarify the alternative to victory.

Without so much as a goodbye, it’s jaws opened impossibly wide, and Lotor whimpered no more.

The White Lion had served as both judge and jury for the half-Galran, half-Altean prince on Oriande.

And here, in the quintessence field, it served as executioner.


	2. Alone Together

Ground.  
  
That's the first thing that came to him, the fact that there was g r o u n d.  
  
It took a dobash to reach that conclusion while lying there, blankly staring up at a...sky.  
  
Blue.  
  
A blue sky.  
  
...when did things go from white to blue?  
  
Clouds lazily rolled across the heavenly expanse, some robust and fluffy, others thin, ribbon-like snakes. They were more silvery than anything else, and even the brightest patches could NOT be considered white, NOT to him, NOT after that all-encompassing, ever-shining intensity, blazing through his life and picking it apart to no end-  
  
Well, he didn't think he'd truly see anything as it anymore. Even if he couldn't remember when or how he'd experienced something of that nature, or even what exactly had been pulled apart, he knew in his heart that nothing could compare, nothing at all.  
  
n  
o  
t  
h  
i  
n  
g  
  
...  
  
...he liked the clouds.  
  
Especially those wispier clouds.  
  
They were like the faintest curls of ethereal hair, the frizz at its edges...did hair frizz? Perhaps it did. Perhaps it did when it was flattened against a pillow, a pillow with a head rested on it, a smiling face gazing up at him-  
  
A l l u r a.  
  
Sharp pains wracked his head, the sky visible for a brief instant before he brought his hands to his face with a cry, and the prior blue became f a m i l i a r, gained a n a m e. It was c e r u l e a n, like her eyes. It began to come back to him, a second flood within his mind as his fingernails dug deep into his flesh, dragging down his forehead.  
  
No..no this wasn't all of it. This was just her. And not even all of her? But wasn't she all of it? Wasn't she his everything? W-wasn’t...  
  
He peeked between shaking digits, ignoring 10 furrows of self inflicted pain as he gazed up at the sky. Yes! See? It was c e r u l e a n, it was b l u e! She piloted the B l u e Lion, she did!  
  
Stars above, what if she was _here_?  
  
He leapt onto his feet, gazing around wildly, only to have his pointed ears droop in disappointment as he took in the horizon.  
  
No. Nothing.  
  
Wait…

The ground. It had the dregs of that blazing whiteness, he was sure of it. It c o m p a r e d. They had to be related, somehow. What if, what if, should he stay for too long, it’d commence burning away at him again?!

And then it started to _flicker_.

That was MUCH WORSE.

He tried to jump away from it, but gravity seized him back down after a few stolen moments. He tried not to look at it, but now he knew it was there.  
  
The next thing Lotor knew, he was running, panting erratically though he had just begun. Thought’s whizzed in and out of his head with every single footfall, things like, where was he going? What did it matter, so long as he got away? Were breaths supposed to sound this way? Not the panting bit, although that certainly wasn’t normal. There was this...his had a strange echo to them, like the journey from within his throat to the air was filled with layers of obstacles. Is that why it was hard to breathe?

The world continued to flicker around him, his feet catching against nothing, oh he nearly COLLAPSED but managed to roll into a recovery, back on his feet in no time as they going THROUGH that awful surface, until it disappeared from beneath him and he F E L L.

Anxiety gave way to sheer panic as the screams tore their way from his throat put those odd breaths to shame, resonating in so many different pitches it was downright unnatural. As if some sort of demonic chorus had lent their talents to their creation, the former emperor’s arms flailing about wildly like he was trying to keep them at bay. His eyes were squeezed shut, the mere IDEA of opening them leading to his legs lashing out at nothing. Soon, quaking started as he realized no air was whistling past his ears, he FELT no resistance coursing over his body, n o n e. Sure he had his armor but no helmet, he should have felt something, ANYTHING on his neck, on his head, but there was NOTHING, where was this PLACE, when would this END?!

Crazed thoughts continued to swarm Lotor’s mind, so many, racing at such a pace that eventually, there were no more to come up with. His limbs had grown tired, limp and sore, and his organs scrambled to pick up the pieces in wake of all they had been put through.

The same thoughts repeating over and over lost their gravity, and he found himself easing into an unprecedented state of calm, screaming fading away. He had gone over the possibilities. Every single one he could think of. What difference did it make to continue on like this? It was unseemly.

Not that there was anyone here to see.

Or at least, that’s what he thought before he heard the soft voice.

_“You okay?”_

Eyes fluttered open to confusion written across a square face. A scar slashed across the bridge of a nose. Sides shaven, topped with dark hair and a white forelock, a hazy violet outline around it all.

“You just...appeared. I could hear you screaming beforehand, but I didn’t know where it was coming from. Everything echoes here. When I saw you, I got here as fast as I could but, well, it’s a big place. I didn’t want to yell and startle you, so I decided to get up close and be quiet about it…”

Shiro noticed how...whoever this was seemed to hyperfocus on the little white bit of hair for a moment. Personally, it had taken him some time to get used to seeing it when he looked into mirrors. But why did this stranger find it so odd? All of the hair he had was white, and there was a lot of it. And those ears. Altean? No no, Allura and Coran were the only ones left. And the purple skin-well, Allura had turned her skin purple to blend in with the Galra on that one mission. Was this some sort of undercover Altean agent? He’d have to be ancient, but cryopods were a thing, plus, what else could he be? Another, similar race, now that he thought about it, but being some sort of infiltrator would explain the suit. It deviated from the standard a bit, but still had that Galra feel to it. The Blades had many operations going on, perhaps this was an elite team member? Part Galra? So many possibilities...

Neither spoke for quite some time, the silence eventually broken by Lotor as he managed to prop himself up on his forearms, staring at his surroundings. Rich, dark blacks and purples stretched out above and below, divided into planes filled with shimmering, sparkling stars-no, celestial bodies of all sorts, it seemed, with that eclipse. And clouds, there were clouds here too, interrupted by a inky, yet uniform void in between, a rectangular thickness boring through the scenery. It was like a god had taken a great blade and cleaved across the horizon, leaving the starless expanse inbetween.

“That was beautiful,” complimented Shiro. Lotor hadn’t realized he’d said the last bit out loud.

“...thank you.”

 

...

 

“Who are you?” He eventually queried.

 

The human cracked a slight smile at that.

 

“I could ask you the same question.”

 

Lotor found himself smiling in turn.

 

“If you did, I’d tell you that I don’t know,” he admitted, fully sitting up and shaking his head, incredulous laughter bubbling out from his lips.

 

“...I really don’t know.”

 

The other man was now facing him, having sat himself a little ways in front- trying to figure out what to make of him, no doubt. If he did reach a conclusion, hopefully he’d voice it. Because Lotor hadn’t the faintest idea.

And the s i l e n c e. It was well on its way to becoming a habit between them.

Lotor couldn’t have that.

“Nice arm,” came the feeble attempt at conversation.

The former paladin glanced down at the sleek prosthetic, it’s familiar curves, panels, knuckles and digits.

“Thanks. You too. You could probably reach out and touch me without having to lean forward at all.”

Another small smile from the both of them. Lotor extended an arm out thoughtfully, eyeing his hand.

“Yes, well, I suppose they are rather long.” He was only going by the other man’s, of course. That was the only reference he had at the moment.

“Long,” mused Shiro. “I’ve been here a long time.”

 

At his words, the former emperor gazed around.

 

“Where is here?”

 

“Pidge and Allura could answer that better than I could. Pidge is a genius, and A l l u r a knows magic better than anyone, except maybe Coran. If all three of them put their heads together, I’m sure they could explain exactly what this all is. As far as I can tell though...I’m in the Black Lion.”

The musing man blinked, seeing Lotor’s eyes go wide. There was an uneasy silence between them, broken by a nervous cough from Shiro, and some words.

“Are you oka-”

“Allura.” Came the blurt, Lotor’s mind snapping back to reality after blanking out for so long at the first mention of her name from another’s lips. She wasn’t a beautiful dream, the kind that made you want to never wake up, she was real, REAL!

“You know Allura? Of course you do, she pilots Blue, and, you’re in Black, right? You know her, right?”

“Actually,” Shiro corrected, “Lance pilots Blue...well, Keith was in Black, so maybe there’s been some more switching around. Voltron is a must have; I know they’d find a way to get it back together. I know they would…oh, sorry, that didn’t answer your question. I’m just...worried about them. They’re in some kind of trouble, I know that. It has to be really bad if Keith was desperate to get there so fast. I should be out there, helping them…”

 

A deep sigh.

 

“At least I reached Keith. Now he knows where I am. I trust him. I trust them. They’ll be fine. I’ll be fine.”

Lotor couldn’t help but think that the other man sounded like he was partially trying to convince himself as he pinched the scarred bridge of his nose in thought, waving the other hand dismissively before letting go, eyes back on the former emperor.

“Anyway yes, I know Allu-”

Shiro’s arm theory was proven to be correct as, in a tick, Lotor had seized him by the shoulders, back still straight as ever.

“Where is she? Do you know? Where is she now? Is she here? Please, PLEASE tell me she’s here. She has to be here, she HAS to be!”

He looked frantic, pained, eyes haunted black holes of desperation, seeming to suck everything inside of them to huddle on the precipice of despair. Somehow, Shiro managed to rip his gaze away to the ground beneath the stranger, which seemed to flicker, so close to giving out completely.

The humans hands now flew to the half-Galran, half-Alteans shoulders, gripping them tightly.

“Look, whoever you are, I need you to listen to me. You have to stay calm. Allura? You like her, right?”

A guess, but Shiro was willing to bet that it was right on the money. But it wasn’t. Lotor shook his head vigorously, biting back tears.

“No, no I _love_ her.”

“Well,” Shiro continued, trying his best to take the news in stride-seriously, who WAS this guy? It’d be one thing to just say that, but he seemed so genuine about it…

“She taught me a lot about the Black Lion, and the big idea is to stay calm. You h a v e to keep it together if you want to do a good job of leading anything, Voltron included. And you have to keep it together if you want to stay here. This place is it’s place, so I think that’s how it works.” At Lotor’s suddenly panicked gaze, Shiro changed his words. “I k n o w that’s how it works. So you need to calm down. I know you can do it. Take deep breaths, okay? In. And Out. In….and out.”

Raggedness faded, and Shiro loosened his grip.

 

“Much better. Good job.”

 

“There’s...”

 

Lotor weakly began, dropping his arms as Shiro did the same, relieved to see the ground beneath the stranger returning to normal.

 

“There’s a Black Lion?” Came the full question, interest sparking in his eyes, noted by Shiro.

 

“Yes. And a Red, Yellow, and Green Lion- you already know about Blue.”

 

“Right. I should have guessed there’d be more. There’s always more. More to life, more than meets the eye...” Lotor admitted, rubbing a hand behind the back of his neck, somewhat embarrassed. “Anyway that makes 1,” He mused, counting off on his fingers. “2, 3, 4, 5 lions. Is that it?”

 

A nod.

 

“Are you sure?”

 

Another.

 

Lotor frowned. He couldn’t place it, but he felt like there was...more. There’s always more. More to life, more than meets the eye...meanwhile to the human’s eyes, he looked wholly and utterly unsatisfied and so...sad.

No way this guy was here to gather information. The thought had crossed Shiro’s mind, that he should be careful what he said. But no, this man was lost, just like when he...when he died, and first appeared here.

“Allura,” Started Shiro, determined to help in any way he could, “explained what they were like. The lions. I could tell you, if that’d make you ha-”

“It would, it would. Very much so. Please..."

And so it began.

Shiro spoke of finding the lions, the personalities that came with them. Their differences, their similarities, little quirks the Paladins had noticed when talking about them. All of it.

Lotor listened intently, marveling at it all, scooting closer at times, as if trying to reach into the other’s memory and see the sights for himself.

Shiro tried to steer the conversation towards the stranger-could he remember anything, how he got here, his name? Negatives across the board. Besides, Lotor was engrossed in the stories that connected all Shiro knew. The bonding. The wacky adventures. All of it. Even if he could remember any personal information, he wouldn’t have spoken up. Totally content to listen as Shiro, that was his name he learned, told him of paladins and planets, robeasts and rebels, aliens and altercations, wormholes and wonder- yet Lotor always found himself drawn back to lions, like there was something he needed to uncover, some connection he could make to A l l u r a, aside from obvious ones. He had to comb through every bit of information. Every. Single. Bit.

“Hold on, hold on...” He implored, waving a hand. “...I’d very much like to make sure I’ve got this straight, if you don’t mind.” At Shiro’s go ahead, he continued. “So Green has an inquisitive personality...Intellect and daring…” Yet another nod. Lotor sighed appreciatively. “I would have loved to be it’s Paladin. I...yes, I think I always wanted to be an explorer, and learn about the universe. And I, I took risks...I think I took quite a few-”

Another headache erupted from within, the world starting to spin as more came back to him, that first line echoing through his head.

Oriande. Hidden away in the Petrulian Zone, hidden away in a white hole. It’s pastel hues, flowers piled high atop floating islands, markings etched along the sides, nooks and crannies of the stone, glowing turquoise like the guardian of the whole place had, leading them into that temple, glowing turquoise like the-

 

**w h i t e l i o n**

 

Holding open its jaws. Jaws closing around him. Slashing through it. Demanding to know it’s secrets. That wasn’t the order, where was the order, he needed order, there was no o r d e r to the strange, violet dots peppering his vision, Shiro’s voice sounded so far away, Shiro reached a hand out to him and it p a s s e d  r i g h t  t h r o u g h.

At first, Lotor though he was the one fading into nothing, as he gaped in horror at the robotic arm put through his chest. But no, no, circuitry fizzled into those odd specks and it became clear S H I R O was the one fading away, the realization hitting Lotor JUST as a massive mechanical lion touched down from above.

The Black Lion was red-winged and golden crowned, the shining stars seeming to be captured within the darkness of it’s chrome hide, glistening edges marred in some places by chipped paint but what did a few imperfections take away from such pure p o w e r?

As the former emperor was awed, Shiro stood, eyes staring past the seated man like there was someone he could see.

“Is that…?”

As if in response, the dots shone brighter, gained another dimension became tiny orbs as if compelled to do so  by some unknown...no, by some...f a m i l i a r force.

Lotor didn’t think he’d ever whipped around so fast, and

 

there

she

was.

 

Radiant. She was radiant. She shone brighter than anything and everything, eyes aquamarine vats of power, piercing despite the vast distance between her and the two frozen men. The air seemed to hum with power as the orbs were sucked towards her, the sky, the stars, all of it, as if she had single-handedly sent the entire realm into hyperspace, streaks of lights and color flying by.

Without warning, the mystical machinery stopped. It was dark. All was dark, save for her.

Then, humming from behind. Lotor couldn’t bring himself to move. Shiro could, and gazed upon The Black Lion, parts of it’s outline. The grooves and facets were streaked with violet, lines of energy coursing across the mechanical marvel.

It’s former paladin gained this same energy as well, veins, no matter their depth, visibly fanning out with the violet, as if it, and not blood, coursed through them as he lifted his foot to take his first step towards the lion. The action was taken as if he was moving through syrup, slow, with murmuring ripples radiating away from it, and at the noise, Lotor just instinctively KNEW the other had moved.

 

If he could do it, then _SO! COULD! HE!_

 

The former emperor sprang to life, charging towards Allura, not surprised at his own speed due to not seeing Shiro’s sluggish movements. Lotor, on the other hand, was firing on all cylinders, in a flat-out sprint. He wasn’t panting this time, he knew what he was setting out to do, he had a goal, just the one, to

_GET! TO! HER!_

Closer and closer he came, hair streaming out behind him, arms pumping. Each stride was pushed as long as it could go, screaming muscles ignored, eyes trained on her. There was that fluffy hair up in a bun, stray bits curling towards a dark brown face. Crystal earrings suspended as always, winking at him. Slender fingers that he wanted so desperately to intertwine with his own, kiss the rose markings on her cheeks, then let go, stop kissing, fall to his knees and BEG for her forgiveness, her, her, HER he was so CLOSE to HER, so close to ALLURA, just a few more-

Gleaming white eyes, no, s e a r i n g white eyes, no, B L A Z I N G white eyes flashed open behind her, narrowing at Lotor. He tripped and fell, bouncing and skidding along the ground-how fast had he been going?- before washing out in in heap a short ways from her feet.

Thank the stars for his long arms. He reached one out now, nearly in contact with a toe of her armor, wait, that white, was it, NO-

That distracted moment cost him e v e r y t h i n g- a moment he could have used to touch her, snap her out of it, let her know he was HERE- that moment, wasted as Allura’s hand outstretched just as Shiro’s foot touched down.

The minute sounds were _DWARFED_ by a keening noise as the White Lion opened it’s maw to reveal all the celestial bodies, the clouds, the planes, the void, all of it within, vibrating in...anticipation? Then came the _ROAR_ and the realm _EXPLODED_ from it’s jaws, accompanied by those violet dots, spewing out as if embers from a blazing furnace of creation.

It was more intense than any jump to hyperspace, the colors more vivid than he had ever seen, and Lotor was thrown back, so far back he ended up sprawled out a few paces before Shiro, right in his path as the beaten, broken man gazed up at him, this man, or rather, the wisp he had become, who was unfazed, _UNBOTHERED_ by all gushing from the white lion’s mouth.

The former emperors breath caught in his throat as the other man approached, his hair began to drain of color, dark strands yielding like it’s what they were born to do. Like they were born to die.

“Shiro stop. P L E A S E. I can’t move.”

Not out of shock, this time. Something, heavy, a gross understatement, but heavy kept him flattened to the floor,and fighting against it was like fighting against fate.

 

Was this his fate?

 

“T-take me to her, please. Carry me to her, _PLEASE_.”

Feet stopped right before a heaving chest as Shiro shifted his gaze downwards.

Lotor could only watch in despair as he saw the concern, the recognition, shrivel up and die along with the last of those dark strands as the former paladin calmly stepped over him.

 

Departing footsteps were soon to follow.

 

‘Shiro! Shiro N O! Please!”

 

They didn’t stop, nor did they slow.

 

“Shiro!”

 

They picked up.

 

_“Shiroooo!”_

 

He was sprinting now.

 

_“SHIROOOOOO!”_

 

The owner of that name was at the black lions open mouth, leaping for it, hand outstretched just like Allura’s. Except, once he was within, Allura tightly clenched her fist.

The jaws of the black lion clanked shut, all encompassing whiteness erupting from the action, no, from the sky, from EVERYTHING.

 

One last, pointless cry.

 

_“SHIROOOOOOOOOO!”_

 

…

…

…

 

A cerulean sky, dotted with clouds. Lotor didn’t need to look towards the ground to know what color it’d be.

He sat up, eyes squeezed shut in grief.

Lotor was on his own. But a nagging feeling in his gut told him that wasn’t a new place for him to be.

He reached his arms out from his sides, aiming to touch his hands down to the ground for support, only to recoil in alarm at the hints of a soft sensation to his right. He dared not open his eyes, flinching at an irritated growl and a tail swatting up into his face, confirming his fears.

 

He wasn't on his own after all.

 

“M-my apologi….I’m sorry.”

 

Another growl that might as well have said, I’m sure you are.

He opened his eyes, not daring to look at what he knew was seated next to him.

“Shiro said the black lion must have…preserved his consciousness somehow, even though he...died.”

 

The lion protected him, from the point of no return.

 

Saved him, just barely.

 

“Is that what you did to me?”

 

No response, this time.

 

But somehow, Lotor knew it was true.

 

Many Vargas passed before he mustured up enough courage to make a series of queries and remarks he had been brewing during that time.

“ _Why? Why_ did you do it? If you like me you’re certainly not showing it. Everyone has a motive. Everyone and everything. Tell me, lion, what was yours?”

 

Question after question.

 

...

 

“You’re quite the conversationalist,” Lotor joked.

 

Tch. One without a sense of humor.

 

There had to be common ground, somewhere.

 

A l l u r a.

 

“Do you remember Oriande? Well of course you do, you guard the place. Allura and I went to visit you. Allura. Remember her?”

Lotor steeled her nerves and turned to gaze at the White Lion. The creature had stoic face, staring off at the horizon, tufted ears twitching ever so slightly at the mention of her name.

 

“Yes! Allura! You remember her?”

 

No movement this time.

 

Lotor sighed, turning his head back to the front to gaze at the horizon as well. If they couldn’t share in conversation, sightseeing would have to do. But he couldn’t see any sights with the tears welling up in his eyes, blurring his vision as they spilled over, tear tracks quickly staining his cheeks.

 

“I _love_ her.”

 

Eyes squeezed shut, the burning sensation nothing compared to the one within his heart.  
  
Then there was a rough sensation dragged across his face.

His eyes opened, his head turned, but the lion was as stoic as ever. It didn’t appear to have moved one inch, yet Lotor cracked a shaky smile. That was a lick, he was sure of it.

 

“So you _DO_ care.” He teased, voice not shaking too badly through the remnants of his tears.

  
The lion’s eyes slid towards him for but a moment, and Lotor saw the Mark of the Chosen reflected in their unreadable gaze. Flickering, but more or less there. Seemed the Lion hadn’t reached a decision. It’s eyes were back on the horizon now, leaving Lotor to wipe away at his cheeks before reaching his hands out from his sides, palms again on the ground.

 

"Do you think she'll come back, someday?"

 

A nod that could only be described as regal.

 

“Do you think, while we wait, you and I can become friends?”

 

No answer.

 

Lotor tentatively leaned to the right and reached out a hand, aiming to pat the side of the great beast. What spurred on such a bold act was unclear, but it was quickly shut down by the lion’s tail, flicking it away like it was a bothersome insect.

 

Leaning away, hands down again, Lotor patted the ground instead.

 

“It’s alright. We’ll get there, you and I.”

 

His eyes closed.

 

“Alone together.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was supposed to be a one shot, but I really like where it ended up! Thank you so much to those who encouraged/inspired me to continue! Feel free to comment your thoughts, opinions and questions. Thanks for reading! :D

**Author's Note:**

> W O W this took forever to write. Season 6 Basically drop-kicked me into a pool of inspiration juice. Is that a thing? I'm making that a thing. Anyway, I really enjoyed creating this, and I hope you guys enjoyed reading it! Feedback would be greatly appreciated, of course. I am now planning on continuing this, hopefully within a day or two. If you have any questions about that or the existing chapter of the fic, feel free to ask! d(0u0)b


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